Conversation between Griffin and Maggie, overheard just now from the front stoop:
“Maggie, pick up your popsicle stick and put it in the garbage!”
“Why?”
“Because if you leave it on the sidewalk it’s pollution.”
“What’s pollution again?”
“Pollution is when you hurt the Earth and soon all the air will go up into space.”
“Really?”
“Yes. All the air will disappear! You want air to breathe don’t you?”
<Thinking.> “But maybe I will float up to space with the air, and I want to go up to space!”
Earlier this evening we wrapped up a delicious celebratory dinner at Punch Pizza, one of our favorite neighborhood pizzerias, and were enjoying the delicious complimentary candies that come with the check. While walking back to the car, tragedy strikes: Maggie’s candy falls out of her mouth onto the grimy pavement. There’s no way out of this one—it’s well-past bedtime—she’s going to melt down completely. Sarah and I prepare ourselves to deliver platitudes about life and loss while whisking everyone home as quickly as possible. Maggie’s first wail, however, is interrupted as Griffin simply snaps his piece of candy in half and hands her one gooey piece. Her face lights up as she pops it into her mouth and says in a quiet, quavering voice, “Thank you, Griffin.”
Overheard today as Maggie had a friend over:
“There’s a bubble in your body that holds your pee and if it pops, you die. So I make sure to take care of my body by going pee on the potty so it doesn’t pop. I do that so I’m still alive. You don’t want it to pop!”
So part of me wants to assure her that her bladder will not pop, but the part of me that’s winning currently is the part that is enjoying the fact that we have not had ONE FIGHT today about the bathroom, as well as the fact that I haven’t had to help her change out of any wet undies.
